


Winds of Change (Tempest)

by Sky_King



Series: Winds of Change [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF!Ichigo, BAMF!Kisuke, Budding Love, Guilt, Guilty Love, Ichigo vs Gotei 13, Liberally borrowing canon elements, M/M, Onmitsukidou Kisuke, Redemption, Sacrifice, War Aftermath, War Rebel Ichigo, What is your penance Urahara Kisuke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_King/pseuds/Sky_King
Summary: When the war is over and Ichigo has won, fate will come back to get her due.Ichigo gambled and gave everything away in exchange for power, and finally the price paid has to be claimed.(When the war is over, Kisuke finds himself adrift, too guilty to live, too guilty to die. He carries on, fueled by that single promise, trying to find a reason for being.And when he does, he'd sooner kill the Soul King himself than let it disappear, no matter the cost.)
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Series: Winds of Change [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963861
Comments: 18
Kudos: 280
Collections: UraIchi Prompt Challenge #4





	Winds of Change (Tempest)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the sequel to Winds of Change (Breath of Hope)!  
> I've read over these stories so many times I can no longer tell if this can stand on its own, but if you want to give it a try go right ahead!
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun is setting.

Normally Kisuke wouldn't care or notice the passage of time, the trek of the sun on the sky unless he was in a time-constrained mission.

But Ichigo had appeared by his temporal lodgings earlier, told him he would be back to eat lunch with him (completely ignoring Kisuke’s objections) and murmured, “it’s a promise.”

And then he had failed to show up.

Kisuke doesn’t know what the problem is, given that the War Icon had been relegated to nothing more than a poster face as Kuchiki Byakuya, Shihoin Yoruichi, Hirako Shinji and Kyouraku Shunsui dealt with the actual consequences of having the rebels winning the war.

But he’s still a force to be reckoned and nobody would dare oppose him if he wanted something done.

He’s not hiding either. If Kisuke focuses just the smallest bit, he’s able to pick out the blazing supernova that is Ichigo’s signal.

And now that he thinks about it… He rather doubts the man had moved from his position.

With a sigh, Kisuke locks his doors, his windows and heads out.

* * *

When he does find him, he hesitates before letting either of them notice he was there.

Ichigo was standing in front of what looked like an unmarked grave, with the strange healer girl sitting even closer and staring off into space.

There is no exchange of words.

It takes only half a heartbeat before Ichigo turns his head to acknowledge Kisuke’s presence—probably thanks to his overpowered Hollow instincts. Kisuke’s attention is drawn to his eyes, blazing golden for one second as the setting sun reflects off them.

“I made you wait, didn’t I?” Is the first thing he says, offering him a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The healer girl inhales in surprise as she finally notices he’s there. She looks conflicted and even throws a frown at Ichigo—Kisuke knows he’s not welcome here.

“I just came here to check you hadn’t gotten yourself kidnapped.” Kisuke replies mildly. “But I see that’s not the case, I’ll take my leave.”

“Do you know,” Ichigo begins, not heeding his words. He turns to look back at the faded, old wooden cross. “Do you know… despite me holding a grudge for the longest of times, I’m not the one responsible for the war.” Ichigo smiles in that way that speaks of pain and heartache and living centuries regretting, longing and fearing. “Do you know who was really the protagonist? The catalyst for this war?”

Kisuke really wants to leave now, he clearly doesn’t deserve to be here, in this sacred resting place for the first casualty–the first victim. But he knows what Ichigo is expecting of him, so he mumbles. “Who?”

“His name was Ishida Uryuu.”

The healer girl hugs herself. Who had he been to her?

“Was he a friend of yours?”

“Friend, family.” He hesitates, he pauses. “He was the last surviving Quincy. Now they are all truly gone.”

Kisuke feels like a bucket of ice cold water had just been dumped on his head. _A Quincy?_ Kisuke had been no more than a child when the last Quincy purge had taken place. What-? How-? Had they survived? Kept in hidden?

Curiosity burns inside of him, but Kisuke swallows it down. He waits instead and Ichigo finally moves to go to the sitting girl.

“Inoue,” he whispers, crouching down to her level. “We should leave.”

“You can leave before me.”

“Inoue, I’m not leaving you here.” Ichigo says, much too tender and careful for Kisuke to feel comfortable seeing. “Come with us.”

“I’m not leaving with him.”

Before Ichigo can do more than frown, Kisuke finally snags that chance and with a bow and a flourish he disappears from the scene.

* * *

When he returns to his temporal house, Yoruichi is there, bloody and staining the stolen couch red. She smiles at him even as he darts forward, hands already glowing green and wondering how far the damage went and how it had all happened.

“Hello to you too,” Yoruichi laughs with a wince of pain, but lets him work in silence. When he’s done as much as he can, the dark-skinned woman stretches and smiles again. “Much better, thanks.”

“Who did that to you?”

“Nobody. Well, not directly. One of my loyal Onmitsukidou disagreed with me. Rather loudly, on the road I’m setting for them.” She sighs, “not many of them will be able to live in a peaceful world, of that we made sure.”

“Was it Shinsou?”

The look Yoruichi gives him makes him want to retract his words. Her face is tender and apologetic. “Sometimes I forget the lengths you went through to remember their names.”

“You know all of their names as well.”

“That’s my job.” Yoruichi counters, softly. “They’re mine, Kisuke. They’re my children I’m murdering. I need to know their names, their faces. You are far too soft for this; you should forget them.”

“Why not change them?”

Yoruichi smiles. “My, someone has been spending a lot of time with our War Icon, haven’t we?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“The… the indoctrination is sometimes too strong. It’s not like they’re unwilling to change. They’re unable to. And I can’t risk this fragile peace just because someone was nice to me one day. I have to think of the greater good.”

Kisuke is silent for a moment, then. “You’ve changed.”

“Nah. _You’ve_ changed. Me? I’ve simply been given purpose. A way to repent.”

“Yoruichi-san.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you quite alright?”

Yoruichi’s smile slips off.

She doesn’t reply.

* * *

During the war, Kuchiki Byakuya had stepped in as a General, as an informant, extremely valuable as a former member of the Gotei 13. Extremely valuable as a bounty.

Kisuke had never actually thought about why the Onmitsukidou were never sent after him, because unlike the War Icon, Kuchiki Byakuya wasn’t as strong, as ridiculously lucky to defeat a whole battalion after his trail.

There had been many captains that had come asking, inquiring, demanding them to bring that man down, if not Kurosaki Ichigo.

It now made sense why Yoruichi had never issued such an order, regardless of punishment. It made sense why she complied with every other disturbing demand of theirs.

For one, her whole clan was basically hostage to her every movement, and maybe they weren’t all deserving of her protection, but at least her brother was. And if only for a single person, Yoruichi would slaughter thousands. Had, actually, slaughtered thousands. Perhaps more.

But if she kept her mouth shut and complied with most requests, they would be inclined to listen if there was one she didn’t agree with.

Or at least, they wouldn’t be so quick to try to depose her. Or kill her.

Which is the reason the pitiful general was spared. And when his sister rose to arms and began wreaking havoc with her bankai, she too was spared. By the Onmitsukidou at the very least.

Her skill alone had spared her life on the battlefield.

But Yoruichi had decided that was all she could do, patted herself on the back and looked away.

It hadn’t always been like this.

When she was younger, when she was too unsure in her position, when the order came for the Kuchiki to go, it had been Kisuke who had to take a knife and slaughter them whole.

For such events, Kisuke disconnected himself completely from his actions, from what was going on around him.

A defense mechanism, one could say, to prevent him from losing himself to the madness that was being raised by the Onmitsukidou. From very small he was raised to be nothing more and nothing less than a dog. For his looks, to be Yoruichi’s lapdog.

But the girl had taken one look at him, shared a single conversation with him and had claimed him as hers. He and Tessai.

They couldn’t be friends, that wasn’t something that could happen, but they were as close at their circumstances allowed them to be.

So when Kisuke was sent to murder, he didn’t hold it against her. When he was injured, bleeding out he didn’t begrudge her. When Yoruichi had told him, in a quiet stuttering voice that they had ordered her to eradicate the Kuchiki…

Kisuke hadn’t thought anything of it. He polished his knives, smiled at her and disappeared into the dark of night, alongside the rest of his murder.

After that, there was a gap in his memories and he’s back at the compound- being elected as the second in command by Yoruichi’s mother.

Yoruichi isn’t present for the ceremony. She isn’t present for the first several weeks of his new position.

Kisuke accepts this, and continues on taking orders from the Shihouin Matriarch.

And then Tessai makes a mistake.

Well, maybe mistake was not the right way to put it, given that the kidou genius rarely made them. But he had chosen to trust the wrong people, and when Hachigen defected —when he was betrayed, tossed aside like yesterday's leftovers—, Tessai had snuck out to try and get him to come back.

Tessai too, was labelled a traitor by people who had no business in the Onmitsukidou, by idiots who didn’t know anything at all.

Tsukabishi Tessai was killed in battle, with no honor to his name.

His body was left to rot for the total of three days it took Yoruichi to figure out what had happened and retrieve him.

She began to talk to Kisuke again afterwards.

Kisuke is not too sure why he has been reminiscing about his past, about their past. There’s nothing worth remembering. If Kisuke had had any say in the matter he would seek a way to wipe his memory clean but…

He had sworn.

He had sworn he would live, and he would atone for his sins.

And for that, he needs to keep them fresh in his mind.

He’s not too sure how Yoruichi manages, since she had to stare at the remaining Kuchikis with painful frequency.

He’s not too sure how he doesn’t lose his mind either, since most of his free time was spent in Ichigo’s company, and the Kuchiki’s by association.

It was likely this was the reason why the Onmitsukidou’s dismantling plan had been going exceedingly fast.

Probably why Kisuke stopped sleeping and began simply collapsing from exhaustion in his bedroom, which continued on being a different one every night.

* * *

Ichigo scowls immediately after Kisuke opens the door to him the following morning. “It smells of blood.”

Kisuke blinks as all sign of surprise before letting his unexpected golden-eyed guest in. He stares with just the smallest trace of unease as the man walks a straight line towards the bloody couch he still hadn’t gotten around to dispose of.

Ichigo arches an eyebrow at him, asking for clarification. He scowls when all Kisuke does is smile blandly in return, clearly unwilling to be interrogated in his own home.

“It’s just a small change in décor, I hope you don’t mind.” Is all Kisuke says, drumming his fingers nervously against his hip when all Ichigo does is roll his eyes, give the bloodstains another cursory glance before flopping down on said couch.

“It’s a good thing you specialize in murder and not in interior decoration.”

The former assassin doesn’t fight back, instead falling silent as his conversation with Yoruichi came back to him. He had been exactly in this place when she had stated the impossible. That he had changed.

Had he changed because he met Ichigo?

Had he followed Ichigo because he had changed?

Which begged the frightening question of…

“Why did you come to me?”

Ichigo’s smile tints with confusion at this non-sequitur, he sits up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“Out of the thousands of people you could have recruited to your cause. What made you think I would do a good ally?”

The War Icon actually takes the time to mull the question seriously. “This probably will sound silly to the great scientist that you are but… I got a hunch. That first time we spoke, call it curiosity or whatever you will but you _did_ save me. My life was at your mercy and you didn’t kill me.”

Kisuke doesn’t reply because back then he hadn’t been ordered to kill him, and it would have been such a pain. But even if untrue, he didn’t want Ichigo to have even more reasons to shun him.

It was such an idiotic thing to say though, he hadn’t really saved him from anything. He wouldn’t have died had he left him on the battlefield.

“Oi, Kisuke, your thoughts are showing on your face. Calm down, jeez. I’m not calling you a saint or anything. And say whatever you will but when you looked at me, and all you asked was _why_ … I knew there still was hope in you.”

This time Kisuke catches himself, and his fingers just tremble but don’t tap his opposite arm. He licks his lips. “I’m pretty sure this makes a lot of sense to you, but I’ll have to ask you to clarify.”

Ichigo hums, brown eyes carefully reading his every move. “You could have asked about my powers. About my friends. About my heritage, anything. Yet you only asked me why did I fight.”

“Well, it’s not like you would answer any other question. And besides, it was such a scandalous note that I wanted to know.”

“Because you didn’t have it.” He says as if that was the answer to the universe.

“What?”

“You didn’t have a reason to fight. So I began to wonder, if I could give you a reason. A real reason, one you could actually believe in, could trust, could risk yourself to fulfill… Would you fight for it?”

Kisuke looks away, feeling oddly exposed. “Have I told you that you are a frightening individual?”

“I hear that a lot.” Ichigo smiles, stretching a hand to simply tap his. “But I only do this for people I see potential for change. And you gave me back much more than I was hoping for.”

Kisuke glances back and he can see that Ichigo is exposing himself to him willingly, as if to match him. Uncertain and unused to physical contact, Kisuke still stretches out his own scarred hand to grasp his. The hand he grabs is the one he almost lost when he fought Yamamoto and even with Inoue’s healing, it’s deformed with scars.

Ichigo’s head snaps up in surprise, face immediately melting into relief and something more he still can’t fully understand. Ichigo looks hungry for more, but he doesn’t force Kisuke and he respects and appreciates the little things he can actually give.

The former Onmitsukidou's second in command smiles back at him, not letting his thoughts show on his face.

Because wasn’t this just hilarious?

A murderer standing at the side of a hero?

_How ludicrous._

* * *

Kisuke destroys the bloodied couch and vacates the building in the middle of the night.

It was getting tiresome, jumping from place to place, but it was a necessity, given his fame and reputation– no doubt spread by his former compatriots.

He begins entertaining the thought of choosing a house, and warding it against intrusion.

It couldn’t be that hard to do something strong enough for him to survive the night.

Ichigo, as always shows no inhibition, no sense of propriety as he continues to hound his every step, asking him questions, inviting him to eat. Somehow between the whirlwind of questions, of promises, of everything, Kisuke found himself being dragged back to their run-down house and presented to the Kuchiki siblings at some point despite his protests.

This rundown house housed all three war potentials: Kuchiki Rukia, Kuchiki Byakuya and Kurosaki Ichigo. Yet somehow, despite it being where Kisuke reported to duty, those three managed to look like a family. So while Ichigo’s eyes would flicker gold at even the slightest disturbance, he never reacted to Kuchiki Rukia bursting in with all her explosive energy.

The girl—woman, really— would careen into Ichigo’s side in a quick hug and then nod at Kisuke politely before disappearing to take a nap inside Ichigo’s protective bubble. All while words poured nonstop from her mouth–of whatever skirmish she had participated in or where she had gone. Kisuke would just listen numb and worried he should not be listening, but neither of them really paid him much mind.

On the other hand, Kuchiki Byakuya was older, more serene and infinitely more tired. The first time the man had limped to the building while Kisuke was there, he had frozen on the spot, boring his cold dark eyes into him.

His slight slouch had disappeared, his limp too and he bore all the power of a noble as he had asked,

“What are you doing here?”

A silly part of him wants to answer that he has no idea but Kisuke composes himself and sweeps the floor in a low bow.

“I am here at the request of Kurosaki Ichigo, sir.” Even though he clearly knows who he is, given the accusatory glare he received, Kisuke still introduced himself. “My name is Urahara Kisuke, and I am at your service.”

“Save it.” Kuchiki says, growing angry for a second. “If it were me, you would be six feet under, so don’t try to kiss up to me.” Even though he looks exhausted, his eyes still light up with his reiatsu, as the strength of it made the air thick enough to suffocate in it.

“My… my apologies,” Kisuke whispers, succumbing to the strength and kneeling like the pathetic scum he really had never stopped being. “I would never insult you in such a manner.”

And then Ichigo bursts in, standing tall and directing his annoyed gaze at Kuchiki.

“Can you stop?”

With just a sigh of defeat, Kuchiki lets his reiatsu drop and without exchanging another word, he retreats into his resting chambers. As he swept past Ichigo, the man raises a hand to pat him on the shoulder before focusing his attention on Kisuke.

Ichigo crouches and offers a hand.

“Sorry,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Kisuke stares at him.

“He’s right you know?”

The hand closes into a fist.

“If you ever decide you don’t want me anymore… It would only be fair to let me at his mercy.”

Ichigo’s face turns into stone as he gets back up. He stares down at him, eyes flickering gold.

“You’re not a possession, you’re not a _dog_. What good will it do to put more blood on my brother’s hands?! _Live, goddamnit! Live and repent!”_

Kisuke picks himself up, bows and nods.

“If you don’t mind. I’ll take my leave.”

* * *

Maybe the logic was that living was a whole deal harder than dying. He should seek the harshest punishment.

And so he would have to live with the constant reminders of his failures.

He would live and remember.

He would never forget them. The fallen, the broken. He would never let them fade into oblivion.

Kisuke’s head snaps up.

That reminds him…

He needs to make sure those objects were still in his possession.

* * *

The next time another smart and corrupted Onmitsukidou manages to one-up him, Kisuke doesn’t really think as he darts to the safest place he can think of, to tend to his useless leg. He manages to shunpo his way into the rundown house, before the last tendon snapped and he came crashing down on the floor.

He needed to refresh his knowledge on proper anatomy of his legs before using Benihime to fix himself and that’s how Ichigo finds him.

“Are you a hound after the smell of blood?” Kisuke comments dryly, as Benihime finished on restructuring his leg. There is blood everywhere, and his princess’ physical form barely fits in the room, casting darkness and eerie shadows on the opposite wall.

Ichigo hadn’t stopped staring at her, mesmerized and wary.

Kisuke wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

“Who did this to you?” Ichigo asks, ignoring Kisuke’s jab entirely as he focused his attention on his stitched up leg.

“My own stupidity,” Kisuke groans as he finally sits up. His leg throbs, but he can stand up again. It would be fully healed in a couple days. “Do not worry, I’ve dealt with them, they won’t be a danger.”

Ichigo nods twice and then raises his eyes again to stare at the eerie beauty that is Benihime. “I’ve seen her before. Bankai?”

Kisuke is much too reluctant to answer, but he eventually says, “yes.”

Ichigo’s face relaxes in a way that is difficult for Kisuke to understand. “Your bankai is a healer.”

Kisuke frowns. “That’s not quite right. She restructures things. Rebuilds. And… why-why are you looking at me like that?”

The soft smile on his lips vanishes on the spot and Ichigo straightens and looks away. “Nothing, never mind.”

Ichigo doesn’t have to come up with an excuse as they both tense in anticipation when a small signal begins darting to their current location.

Kisuke is already recalling Benihime, preferring her shikai for a close-combat fight but Ichigo raises his hand. “Wait. I know her.”

Kisuke lowers his blade, but stays on the alert as Ichigo leaves the room to be greeted by a shinigami. Nanao, if Kisuke remembers correctly.

He still gets her confused with Lisa. What a joke, to elect someone who looks exactly like your former lieutenant.

He focuses his senses on eavesdropping, keeping Benihime unsheathed.

“Shiba-dono, we would like to request your presence for the peace alliance between the organization formerly known as the Onmitsukidou, if you would be so kind.”

“Hm,” Ichigo said. “I am not in charge of the political situation, Na-chan, I don’t think you need me there.”

“No,” Nanao smiles. “You fail to understand how important you are. Your mere presence gives this reunion so much more weight.”

“...Alright then, I’ll be there in a sec.”

Nanao smiles again, sweetly. Innocent and young. “No, Shiba-dono. It is for tomorrow at noon, if you would be so kind.”

“Ah, see you then.”

After she’s gone, Ichigo returns to the silent room. Kisuke is staring out of the window, face inscrutable. His back to him.

“They’re finally listening.” Kisuke says and then sighs, relieved and exhausted and endlessly sad.

Ichigo doesn’t say anything, but stares at him either way.

Kisuke blinks and inhales in surprise. He had spaced out for more than a minute in the presence of someone else.

He stares at the man who had not only changed the entire world, but Kisuke alongside it and is rewarded by the slightly sleepy face of the War Icon.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles, drowsily and at ease. Kisuke feels so out of his depth he has to grasp at straws to find something to say.

“Are you going by Shiba again?”

The drowsiness disappears, as well as any other expression other than clinical disinterest. Kisuke wonders if he didn’t just put his foot in his mouth and if he shouldn’t be getting at least flogged.

“No, I- there’s no point.”

Kisuke is silent for a moment. “Where does the Kurosaki surname come from?”

Another glance. Ichigo licks his lips before starting. “My father was… I mean, he was part of the clan but my mother was not.”

Kisuke’s starting to believe he better shut up now, but the curiosity keeps on burning happily. “… Is Kurosaki from your mother’s side?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you hide your heritage?”

“You probably won’t like the answer.”

“Maybe that's more than enough reason for me to hear it.”

“Because Shiba Ichigo was a scared boy. He had witnessed his family’s death and he just wanted to follow suit.” Ichigo confesses in a far too light tone for it to be honest. “Because when I decided to fight back, I decided to bury that scared boy. Shiba Ichigo died. I made sure of that. And if I wanted to seize the rebellion and get on top of it, I couldn’t be pitied. I couldn’t be the poor orphan seeking revenge. I… “

“You became Kurosaki Ichigo, the War Icon.” Kisuke helped him, with a soft tone. Ichigo smiled at him.

“Yeah. But that Ichigo still wanted to fight back for what was done to us. Simply in a different way.”

“Would either of those Ichigos like to settle down?”

“What are you suggesting? Is it marriage again? I told you- “

Kisuke rolls his eyes. Instead of answering, he pulls out a set of keys from inside his civilian clothes and hands them to Ichigo.

“What is this?”

“You’ll be offered a thousand different accommodations, and where you finally decide to reside is up to you, but I’m taking the liberty of being the first to offer.” Kisuke explains mildly, Ichigo looks so openly surprised that Kisuke hurried to finish. “It’s not a Noble’s manor or anything of the sort, but if not as a home, you could use it as a hide-out, for you and Kuchiki-dono and her brother if you so wish. I’ve made sure to implement as many protective kidou as possible, to help you keep your privacy if you so wish.”

Ichigo holds the keys in front of him with the weirdest expression. He looked a mix of gobsmacked, surprised and amused and all Kisuke could think was how damn young he looks.

When Ichigo finally manages to form coherent sentences, his voice is still on the verge of cracking even though he looks amused and fond. “Who are you and what did you do with Kisuke?”

Kisuke feels heat rising to his head, and he did the best he could to recover his composure. But before he could try to pretend he was not jittery he notices that… “Ichigo, is everything alright?”

Ichigo actually sniffs once, before he manages to control himself, eyes still shiny. “Yeah, perfect.”

“Then… did I possibly offend you?”

“No, nothing of the sort… it’s just that… It’s already been over a century since I last had a place to call home. I’m just… Thank you, Kisuke.”

Again, he looks like he wants to lunge for Kisuke, grab him, hold him, but doesn’t.

* * *

Ichigo moves in not even two days later. He hunts Kisuke down after he finished dispatching some more former coworkers and asks for his help moving in.

Kisuke stares incomprehensibly for a while, the blood and the screams and curses still ringing in his ears.

(He forces himself to agree, if only to chase away those shadows of loneliness from his eyes.)

* * *

But even though Kisuke spent half of his time trying to figure out what and who exactly was Kurosaki Ichigo, it still managed to escape him, the depth of the problem the Vizard boy was going through.

“Are you going to tell him?” Shinji asks his youngest Vizard, holding him as the trembling young man tries getting his breath back. Ichigo shakes his head, like a wild stallion as he clutches at Shinji with his normal Shinigami hands.

Not even a moment ago, they were white claws, as his soul fought against the all-consuming hollow within him.

Ichigo shudders as he recalls and he forgets himself briefly. His hands shake but remain decidedly Shinigami as the most recent relapse into his hollow side finally left him one more day.

They were getting more frequent. Not even Shinji, who had been a Vizard the longest had such frequent attacks.

Ichigo tries to say something but then proceeds to hack up a lung. His knees give way but Shinji is already there to steady him and lower both of them to the ground.

Ichigo growls, still a little of Hollow under the surface, barely under wraps. “There’s no need.”

“Ichigo. We didn’t know what the effect of the Hollowification would be. I survived and it was a fucking miracle. You know it and all the Vizards know it. We’re ticking bombs. Our souls keep on consuming, the part of them that is hollow is growing. We’re eating ourselves, Ichigo.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ichigo hisses back, doing his best to push Shinji away. He gave heavy puffs of breath, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “There’s a hole, Shinji. And it’s growing bigger.”

There’s a bit of a stunned silence after that accidental confession. Shinji is staring wide-eyed as Ichigo cringes softly.

“Damn it, Ichigo why didn’t you mention this before?!” Shinji tries and fails to keep the panic out of his voice, grabbing him by the arms. Just Shinji had a hole, the rest of the Vizards were still fine. The ones that were alive at the very least. They were younger, Ichigo was the youngest so why…? “Why did you use it so much, you fucking idiot?”

The shivering mess in front of him has the gall to stand proud and defiant. “There’s no way I wouldn’t give it my all to end this war.”

“Does anyone know? Please tell me at least you’ve seen someone? Maybe that asshole Kisuke- “

“I’m not telling him. It would break him.” Ichigo mumbles, looking vulnerable in ways Shinji was sure very few had ever seen. He realizes that pushing to ask the scientist about an alternative treatment is not what is on the young boy’s mind.

“Ichigo…” Shinji falters, cringes and then just says in a soft voice. “Ichigo, you know him better than I do. If you die and leave him behind without never having said anything, you’ll break the man. It will be the ultimate betrayal.”

Ichigo looks scared and pitiful and _so young_. “I can’t do that to him. But I can’t tell him either. He’s just getting used to living again. I can’t-“

Shinji can’t help but feel sorry for him. And even more because he reminded him of himself.

“Ichigo. Knowing I have little time remaining on this place, there’s nothing I would not have given to be with the one I love until my last breath.” He says in a soft, private whisper, but he knows that Ichigo heard it all. Shinji sighs. “I don’t have that chance anymore. You still do.”

And really, what could Ichigo say to that?

* * *

Ichigo finds him after the peace negotiation.

Kisuke doesn’t say anything as he allows the bloodied man inside.

Kisuke walks behind him, as the War Icon makes a beeline for the new soon-to-be-replaced-again couch and just collapses on it, covering his face with his hands.

He only looks up when Kisuke appears by his side again, offering him a warm, wet towel. He stares at it, with eyes darkened by heavy bags before he finally accepts it.

“Were you attacked?”

The War Icon sighs, “yeah.”

The former assassin wants to continue asking, to get as much information as possible but he abstains in the face of such a tired semblance. But if not an interrogation, he’s unsure how to proceed when he’s as vulnerable as this.

Maybe he should just go get either of the Kuchiki siblings. But when he so much as shifts his weight, golden eyes snap up to him, freezing him in place.

“Aren’t you going to ask?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Aren’t you going to ask who I killed?”

Kisuke stares at him in silence until Ichigo looks away.

“The Onmitsukidou were given several chances. It is not your fault they… they were unable to hear.”

“Kisuke, I’m-“

“If you _dare_ apologize to me, I won’t forgive you. They were at wrong. And Yoruichi-san and I both understood that it was highly likely our dear comrades would be unable to change.”

“Still I…”

“Are you seriously planning on bearing the whole weight of the war? Because let me tell you that you will succumb to it sooner or later, at which point you won’t be helping the cause at all.”

Despite himself, Ichigo finds himself smiling endearingly at Kisuke. The former assassin stiffens and just mumbles, “what.”

“Your concern is appreciated.”

Kisuke wants someone to explain to him how a war veteran, drenched in his people’s blood could possibly look so young and innocent.

* * *

Ichigo had asked him for a cup of tea, and just huddled on the coach miserably while Kisuke went to prepare everything.

Once more, it struck him just how young he seemed. Back when he had been waging a war, back when they had crossed biting words and sharp blades, Ichigo had been nothing but an imposing adversary. An enemy, a War Icon. Ageless, unbeatable, and stronger than anyone else.

All perfect traits for a War Hero. To be their banner, their beacon of hope.

And as soon as that wasn’t needed, the War Icon had allowed his humanity through. He had only begun to assimilate the easy smiles, the open expressions, the way his words and mannerisms spoke of a soul too young to be tainted.

Which, given his history, should not be possible on any accounts.

But, he thought with a soft tilt of his mouth. He could believe he was a soul too _pure_ to be tainted.

“What?” Ichigo barks defensively from all across the room, huddled on the soiled furniture as if he was actually comfortable.

“No, I was just wondering how did you ever fool me to think you were a merciless bastard.” Kisuke says in a soft tone he barely even allows.

Ichigo is silent for a heartbeat too long.

“That’s my job. Gotta keep you on your toes and all.” He snorts and gets up —suddenly antsy. “Talking about which, I should go. I forgot I need to report back to Rukia. And get chewed out by Byakuya, probably.”

“Ah, yes. Please do.” Kisuke replies instantly even as he held the tea he had just made in his hands. The child soldier in front of him nods and turns to leave. “Ichigo?” He calls him. A spur of the moment. A thoughtless gesture. _A mistake that could cost him his life._ “You’ve been working hard. Let me invite you a drink someday.”

And with that simple gesture, the young man loses his walls as real happiness washes over him. “ _Yes_.” He whispers.

With that, Ichigo disappears.

Leaving behind Kisuke with his demons. Leaving him at the mercy of the voices that called him for his hypocrisy, for his unsuitability.

Leaving behind fragments of Hollow bone on the couch Ichigo had vacated.

* * *

Kisuke swears, as he watches his most recent home burn to the ground— the hidden traps and poison no doubt disseminated over his things catching fire and being rendered useless— that whoever had exposed his face and identity to the world would die under his knife.

He hadn’t sworn off killing. He’d simply never had a good reason to.

Pissing him off was more than enough.

“Come live with us.” Ichigo says, open and young and completely oblivious.

He hadn't been there a second before, Kisuke thinks laconically, before turning to him with a sigh.

He's already gotten somewhat used to the anomaly known as Ichigo, but he’s still caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“Your house burned down. Byakuya told me.” Ichigo states blandly, almost ironic as the flames continue lapping at the cinders of a home in front of them.

_What?_

Kisuke cocks his head. “I do not see how that correlates. And I wasn’t aware Byakuya-sama was so concerned with me.”

As soon as the words come out of his mouth he regrets them, tasting like ash on his tongue. Ichigo just slants him a tired gaze before shrugging.

“We’re still working on that amnesty. Despite the earlier… blunder, Yoruichi-san approached us to follow through. She must know it’s the only way for the murder people not to be murdered themselves.” He’s silent for a moment. “She cares for her people. I wouldn’t have pegged her for that.”

Kisuke licks his lips again. “She told you.”

“She told Byakuya. Byakuya told me. We went full circle.” He tries for a grin but the two of them fall into an uncomfortable silence. Fire crackles in the distance.

Kisuke remembers Yoruichi when she was younger. He remembers Kuukaku.

He remembers the aftermath of the Kuchiki massacre. The Shibas.

An apology, an excuse wants to jump to his lips but it is not his place. And a mere apology would fix nothing at all.

Ichigo takes in a deep breath to his side. A deep, deep breath as if he wanted to pull in all the air of the world.

He exhales.

“I didn’t say it as an accusation. Or… I shouldn’t. It’s good. It’s good that she’s not insensible. It’s good she has, dare I say, a heart. Even after everything… I had thought…”

Kisuke looks down, the acrid smell of the poison his former coworkers wanted him to sleep in saturating the air. “Nobody has just one face. Nobody is ever just a murderer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I’m sorry you two had to live like that.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s-“

“Ichigo.” Kisuke stares back at him. “I-we murdered your family, you cannot feel bad for us.”

Like a violent tempest, Ichigo disappears, the shockwave of his shunpo making the flames flicker as they continued lapping at the broken furniture.

Kisuke stares at them, flickering, growing, burning everything they touched.

What stopped him from jumping into the toxic fumes and fiery hell?

He’s so tired.

The weight of guilt, of lives lost, of dreams shattered, bowed his head.

He sighs.

* * *

Kisuke knows what needs to be done, and it takes him less than a week to track down all the members of the Onmitsukidou that had ever partaken in making his life miserable, in hunting down Ichigo and all the other rebels, and eliminates all of them.

He does that and then just… doesn’t know what else to do.

He doesn’t try to look for a new house. Since the real danger had been dealt with by his own hand, he doesn’t have to hide as good as before so he had taken to sleeping on the streets. Shrouded in nothing but concealing kidou, he would nap for a couple hours and then go find someone to kill.

And when that’s over he just sits atop a roof, unnoticed by the world.

Could he ever truly change if all he knew how to do was how to kill?

Did he deserve another chance; despite the lives he’d taken?

Why would he get to live, while he personally destroyed other people’s lives, dreams, _families_?

They had told him to atone. Live and atone every waking second of his remaining life. A life he didn’t have the right to end himself. But… what sort of punishment was letting him live when he had killed so many?

He just kept hurting people. Yoruichi. Ichigo. The Kuchiki siblings could barely look him in the eye. He doesn’t blame them. He’s surprised they didn’t want him dead.

It makes no sense.

Even if he had been following orders. Even if it was a question of his life or his target’s. Kisuke had made some irreversibly bad decisions and he should be paying for them.

What had he even though before? His life was not worth tearing down innocents. His life was not worth breaking families apart. And if he was perfectly honest, nobody was worth that much. Not even Yoruichi.

Kisuke stares at the sky.

But there was no way to turn back time. Maybe that’s why people learn to forgive. Sometimes there are no more options.

Kuchiki Rukia had condemned him. But also spared his life. Because killing him would go against the ideals they were fighting for.

Kuchiki Byakuya had asked him just once, how old he was. He seemed uncharacteristically sad afterwards, but Kisuke had not been able to understand why.

Did he deserve to live long enough to figure these things out?

The days continue to pass.

* * *

A rumor begins spreading.

The War Hero had stopped showing his face.

The meetings carried on, the public announcements and hearings, but now they lack their Icon and nobody was giving a clear answer as to why.

Kisuke feels a needle of fear nestling in his gut.

Had something happened to him?

* * *

It takes him an annoyingly long time to find him. He had to resort to eavesdropping and putting clues together between what they told him, what they refused to say and which places they forbid him to go to.

Kuchiki Rukia is the only one to spot him, as he sneaks his way into the Rebel’s headquarters, and he’s a bit scared to realize that it was because he had begun lowering his guard in her presence.

She tells him he’s caught a sickness and they’re trying to make him take it easy. The former Onmitsukidou tries to get her to tell him where he is and he’s rather surprised by feeling disappointed when she does not. She doesn’t owe him anything. He has no right to ask.

And yet, the ridiculous woman explains that Ichigo’s whereabouts were meant to remain undisclosed until he got better.

Kisuke nods and bows and tells her that if there was anything they needed, anything he could do, to let him know.

Kuchiki stares at him.

She doesn’t agree or accept but she ends up smiling at him as he retreats, which was odd in any scenario.

Ichigo is most likely not sick.

Given his popularity and how recognizable this man was; he doubts it was an undercover mission. Maybe it could be a mission to someplace dangerous.

She had looked worried.

But why would Ichigo be going to such a mission? He might be foolhardy and might want to take everything on his shoulders, but certainly a lot of people would stop him from committing any other absurd act?

More absurd than trying to befriend an assassin of the opposite playing field.

Even with all of his careful planning, it is rather by chance than skill that he finds him.

Or… finds the carnage.

He had been attracted by the rumors of hollows, wondering why would they be congregating so close to a populated area, without actively attacking them.

He thinks it’s going to be a quick dispatch, but when he gets there he can see the hollows hounding a family that was barely keeping it together.

Kisuke doesn’t know where this heroism is coming from, but he dashes towards them and draws Benihime to protect the civilians.

The Hollow Mask endures his first strike, and Kisuke grunts as he tries getting Benihime to slice through it. The friction begins cracking at the mask and fine dust falls on his face before he finished reciting an incantation and dealt with the hollow and the one behind it with a single shakkaho.

He makes sure there were no more threats, before disappearing without a trace, not letting the injured family even get a glimpse at his face.

Once alone, he stops and allows his mind to catch up, knowing there had been something important there.

Kisuke touches his face and comes away with white dust.

Much like…

The one he had found in his couch.

The spike of dread grows.

* * *

“Yoruichi-san.” Kisuke bows down, motions ingrained into him by decades of training. Neither of them are part of the Onmitsukidou anymore, but there’s something just _right_ about deferring to her. “I need to request permission to use the Silent Room.”

The catwoman looks at him, eyes inscrutable, yet the finger tapping against her hip is rather telling. “What’s going on?”

Kisuke gets up, but bows his head.

“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out.”

* * *

Kisuke closes and locks the door. He seals it with as many kidou spells as he dares before taking a seat on the padded floor.

Okay.

It was time to think.

He draws on his memories from the day that white powder had littered his couch. The day an injured Ichigo had visited him.

The day the Onmitsukidou had attacked Ichigo and got murdered as a result.

All of this was connected somehow.

And surely…

Had everything to do with Ichigo’s mysterious disappearance.

* * *

Kisuke seeks Ichigo out, despite his best instincts. Instincts that screamed at him not to get involved with such an unstable soul.

A soul, that was succumbing to its hollow side. It had been obvious, all things considered.

If only the solution was just as easy.

* * *

Kisuke’s still processing this new information when he once again, chances upon Ichigo by sheer luck.

…Or, what had once been Ichigo at the very least.

He feels a chill run through his body, as he gazes at the half-transformed soul feasting on a body. The monster had claws, fangs protruding out of its helmet-like mask. And a pair of horns, with sharp angles as they curved inwards. But the lower half of his body was still shrouded in a standard Shinigami attire.

But from behind the mask, a mane of vibrant orange hair sprouted, meters upon meters of hair, _somehow so familiar it hurt._

“…Ichigo?”

The creature’s jaws snap against the remaining of the body, forcing it to disappear in a beam of reishi that it ingested before turning to him, maw exposed.

It howls.

A primal sound of hunger and despair.

Kisuke barely has the time to lift Benihime and parry the creature’s claws. The hollow separates from him, the blast of sonido deafening him for a precious second before coming in again from the opposite direction.

Benihime’s crimson shield saves him, but then he’s too slow to avoid the following lunge and suddenly he finds himself with his back to the ground and Benihime between sharp fangs– the only thing stopping him from dying right then and there.

The beast doesn’t let up, somehow unharmed by the sharp blade in its mouth. Kisuke can’t help but feel fear clogging up his throat as the creature’s golden eyes stare down at him. Eyes void of light, of hope, _of life._

Kisuke is terrifyingly certain he’s going to be swallowed whole inside those bottomless eyes.

The Hollow whines, and begins pushing down, trying to reach Kisuke’s face.

Kisuke is suddenly certain that his time has come because from the depth of that maw of sharp teeth a red glow begins to shine.

A cero.

And Kisuke…

Doesn’t scramble. Doesn’t try to draw Benihime’s shield.

He just stares up at those golden, lifeless eyes and accepts his defeat.

But just as he’s closing his eyes…

Just as his grasp on Benihime begins to loosen…

He sees something in those empty eyes. He sees fear, he sees pain. Black blood begins to pour down, a sick mimicry of tears.

Kisuke gasps.

No, he can’t die yet. It’s not his right. He has to find Ichigo. He can’t die, he can’t die, _he can’t die here-!_

“ _BYAKURAI!”_ Kisuke shivers as the electricity ran inside of him, over him, blasting out through his fingers at the lumbering beast at point blank.

The creature reels back, mostly in surprise and Kisuke follows it up with a shakkaho, his arms feeling too numb to properly wield Benihime.

As soon as it wasn’t caging him in, Kisuke hurries to put some distance between them, a binding spell on the tip of his tongue as he looks at his surroundings again.

There were bodies around, half-dissolved, half-eaten. No other Hollow on sight though. Why would this Hollow not fully consume its prey?

Kisuke stares again at those bottomless pits of despair.

He had called Ichigo’s name on instinct, because his signature’s similar but…

But there’ s just no way this creature is his pure-hearted leader…

Right?

Kisuke hesitates, turns around ready to leave to gather his thoughts, his new information. He needs time to figure this out, to learn how this new piece fit inside the puzzle.

But his last glance over his shoulder shows the creature hunching down a half-eaten carcass, shoulders bowed as if in grief.

Kisuke sighs. He’s being really dumb and sentimental right now. It doesn’t matter if he can’t believe it, it doesn’t matter if it’s frightening, or inconceivable.

He shoves his emotions aside, buries them deep within. And then looks at the carnage down below again.

The creature isn’t eating, isn’t destroying anything– it keeps holding that same body, shoulders trembling –and if it had been anything but a hungry hollow, Kisuke would have believed it was grieving.

Hollows could grieve, however. They could feel sadness, anger, happiness. Which he discovered as much with their Arrancar project.

But why grieve about the body you were eating?

Objectively speaking, could this hollow really harbor a Shinigami heart inside?

Is there any chance that this creature is…?

Fearing he might be wrong, almost as much as he fears being right, Kisuke dives down, singing Benihime in hand.

And deals a strong enough blow to knock it unconscious.

* * *

In a setting reminiscing of their first meeting, Kisuke finds himself inside a cave, hiding from everybody, Ichigo’s unconscious body a few feet away from him.

It had been him, in the end.

As the gigantic hollow dropped to the ground, the extra appendages, the mask, the horns, everything began to fall apart. His claws returned to normal hands, his face returned to what it was. His skin was still an unnatural white however, a stark contrast to his long, vibrant hair.

Kisuke knows why he’s thinking stupid thoughts though. He’s terrified.

He doesn’t understand what’s going on; and if he doesn’t figure it out soon, he fears what might happen.

Ichigo had been the catalyst, the winds of change– but he may just become the tempest to upset it all.

And that was not an option.

* * *

Kisuke was just pondering if his plan of binding him, cloaking him with kidou and tossing him in an isolation cell in the Maggot’s Nest was viable to keep him contained and begin investigating his… condition, when the corpse-like body at his feet begins to show signs of life again.

With his stark-white skin, and the gaping hollow-like wound on his chest, the man opens his eyes and draws in a desperate breath.

Despite what his training, what his instincts demanded, Kisuke finds himself kneeling besides him, a hand on his shoulder and helping him sit up.

Gold-over-black eyes stare back at him, wide and unfamiliar and Kisuke chokes on his breath.

Ichigo flinches and looks away, even as he slaps those hands away. He doesn’t say a word as he stares off into the distance– troubled and… guilty?

“Ichigo? Are you feeling alright?”

Ichigo opens his mouth, closes it, and then just staggers to his feet. It would have been funny how he stepped on his own hair, but it’s such a vibrant shade that it just accentuates the unnaturalness of everything.

“Where did you find me?”

“Rukongai.”

“So you saw.”

“Ichigo…”

“You can’t tell anyone.” He interrupts with a broken voice.

Kisuke closes his mouth, lowers his head. “I swear on my life.”

“…”

The former Onmitsukidou clenches his fist, fear consuming him as the silence stretched. “But what… what is wrong? What’s happening to you?”

“It’s nothing you should worry about.” Ichigo says, rather coldly.

And even though he was perfectly justified in pushing him away, Kisuke can’t help but feel hurt, even as he hurries to bow and agree.

“Of course, of course, I was just a little worried.” He says, hating how vulnerable these words are making him feel. He’s worried? That didn’t excuse his meddlesome self, no wonder he was mad.

Ichigo notices, yet can’t bring himself to say anything.

“Is- is there anything I can help you with?” Kisuke tries smiling, and feels himself wilting when it just makes the paper-white Hero look away, ashamed.

“No, I don’t think so.” Ichigo says. “This is not something that has a fix, and I don’t need you wasting your time.”

“…What?”

Something about the tone, the words, or the unsettled surprise on Kisuke make Ichigo flinch and try to disappear.

But Ichigo isn’t the only one that has grown adept at finding him.

* * *

“Please leave me alone.” Ichigo says dully, tired of having Kisuke find him over and over again. Right now they were on the underside of a cliff, inside a man-made (hollow-made?) cave barely big enough to fit the both of them.

“I can’t do that.” Kisuke replies on reflex. There is silence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I followed you.” Kisuke replies, but when Ichigo snarls he adds. “I was worried something had happened to you.”

“You already said that.”

“Yes.”

“I’m fine.”

“My apologies, Ichigo. But that, you are not.”

“I’m a little sick. But it’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

“Ichigo…” Kisuke begins. “What was the cost?”

“I’m sorry?”

The puzzle pieces begin to fall in place, forming a frightening image.

“What was the cost of the hollowification?”

Ichigo stares back at him. All of his otherworldly new features make him look savage, dangerous– an anomaly.

But all Kisuke can see is the desperation in his posture, and the heartbreak in his eyes.

“Kisuke, I…”

He bows. Down at the waist, at a perfect ninety-degree angle.

“Whatever it is, I will help you.” He promises. “Not as a debt, not as a duty. I-I _want_ to help you.”

Ichigo bows down his head, his long, long hair curtaining his face.

Kisuke somehow wants to comfort him, but he doesn’t know how. He also is not willing to risk physical contact right now.

So he just sits down on the rocky uneven ground and waits him out.

* * *

“I didn’t want you to find out.”

Kisuke blinks out of his spiraling thoughts when Ichigo finally speaks.

“I see.” He says, even though he doesn’t see at all.

“I’m sorry, I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s fucking not.” Ichigo snarls at him, some of that hollow consuming his soul coming to the surface again. “You deserve to know what’s happening to me.”

Kisuke is struck dumb by those words. He licks his lips, tries coming up with a reply and coming up empty.

He deserved to know?

Why?

“So yeah.” Ichigo continues with a cleared throat. “I’m dying soon.”

“No.” Is the immediate reply, like a whip through the air, cutting through the tension. It is unlike him, but Kisuke doesn’t care.

“What?”

“I won’t let you die.”

“What,” Ichigo says with a lopsided smile. “Are you going to mend me?”

Kisuke is unsmiling. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure you won’t die.”

Ichigo looks somber. “Don’t promise me something like that. If I become a mindless Hollow, you’ll have to put me down.”

Kisuke scowls. “Fine. On one condition.” His voice is shaking. He’s not even considering that ever happening, yet his body is already rejecting the mere thought. He clears his throat. “You won’t ever become such hollow.”

Ichigo laughs, softly, tiredly.

He laughs and laughs.

And doesn’t answer.

* * *

“You are atrocious at this.” Ichigo comments with laughter in his voice as Kisuke struggles with making a simple braid out of his hair. He had already gotten singed by a cero because he had tugged too hard, but he’d like to think he wasn’t doing that bad of a job.

“Braiding hair was never part of my job description.” Kisuke replies, using a couple of loose hair strands to tie the haphazard braid together. “And dealing with hair that won’t stay short is not exactly common.”

“You’re telling me.” Ichigo says, aggravated. It was such a weird thing, that the thing they had to worry the most about his sudden hollowification. Not claws, or horns, or tails. Just two meters of vibrant, orange hair.

“How long has this been going on?” Kisuke asks, even as he lets go of his braid and steps back to give him space.

Ichigo tests his braid, brings it forth so it would be slung over his shoulder. And doesn’t answer.

“…Ichigo?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Ichigo,” Kisuke tries. “I know I’m not… I’m sure I’m not the person you’d like to tell this to, I’m not asking you to give me details but the more information I have, the better I can find a solution.”

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

“…I know.”

Frustrated, Ichigo growls at him– and from the depths of his chest, choking him as it crawls up his throat, a white amorphous blob of hollow bone makes act of presence.

“Shit, shit.” Ichigo says, even as he gags, even as his eyes widen in _terror. “_ Kisuke- go away, please, GO AWAY!”

But Kisuke doesn’t listen, doesn’t leave. He sees the unmistakable hollow bone, in a bizarre liquid form he has never seen before and makes a gamble.

He rounds him, ignores Ichigo’s arm swing and places a stasis kidou on the growing mass. Ichigo cries out, topples down– but doesn’t transform.

He’s heaving, curled up– pain evident in every vein pumping in his neck, in every taut muscle on his bone-white skin. His eyes are bleeding black, but the pupil is decidedly brown. The hollow bone has already reached his shoulders, his chest, forming ragged spikes, and still it continues to pour out of his mouth.

But he’s not transforming.

Kisuke falls down on his knees, hands glowing green hoping, praying this would help alleviate the pain.

* * *

It is five hours later, when all of his hard work appears to finally pay off.

Kisuke’s heaving, his arms and legs trembling with sheer exhaustion as he finally sees fluttering eyelashes, nothing of that terrible hollow in his eyes.

Eyes that meet his and look heartbroken.

“…What did you do?”

Kisuke gulps in some more air before he finally can answer. “I stopped the progression of the hollow bone. I placed a stasis kidou on it– we used to do with, whenever… an arrancar went out of control. I was not sure it would work on you, however.”

“Oh,” Ichigo says weakly, something sad in the arch of his eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

Kisuke blinks repeatedly, eyes scanning over his features as he distantly wonders if he’s delirious. Maybe they both are. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t… I don’t know what you did but… you didn’t have to tire yourself out. I would have been fine anyway. Or… as fine as a dying man can be.”

Kisuke tries to express his outrage and chokes on his next breath. He coughs viciously, desperately as he tries getting the words out. “Ichigo, _you spared my life_. I don’t yet understand why, but I’m trying. I’m trying to atone, like Kuchiki-dono said. And- maybe- maybe I’m alive to help you. Maybe this is my reason for being. And I swear to you, I will find a cure, no matter the price.”

Ichigo’s eyes are still dark with that heart-shattering sadness, as he stares at him. He’s young, so young.

And scared, no matter how much he hid it.

Words— of comfort, of forgiveness— continue to bubble up his chest. “I have found quite a decent bar to visit, Ichigo. Let me buy you a drink when all of this is over.” He says, echoing the aching promise they had forged what seems like years ago.

It’s curious how this terribly worded promise is what finally makes Ichigo sigh in relief.

“I can’t exactly let you go there all by yourself, now can I?” He says, and if his voice trembles, there is nobody else to notice.

* * *

Now that he had a sense of purpose again, Kisuke poured all of himself into it.

First he scans Ichigo’s body, trying to stabilize it as much as possible. The Hollow bone was sensitive, but they had managed to chip away at it– hopefully slowing down the progression to Ichigo’s next relapse.

Kisuke places as many stasis kidos as he dared without outright stopping Ichigo’s heart or lungs. The man could barely move now, but he would be fine.

(The trust in his eyes, as he closes his eyes was as terrifying as it was sobering.)

Then he transports him to the Silent Room. It had been designed for Kisuke alone, so he didn’t think anybody else would come looking for Ichigo here.

He just made sure all the wards were in place, just in case.

And then the difficult part began.

“Kuchiki-dono.” Kisuke says, bowing as low as possible. Kuchiki Rukia, who he had caught coming out for breakfast in their home, paused, a hand on her blade. “My apologies for coming here unannounced but I- we need your assistance.”

“I do not oversee the Onmitsukidou’s mess.” She replies, cold and refined.

“I understand.” Kisuke agrees. “But this is not about them. It’s about Ichigo.”

“He’s still not seeing anyone. He-“

“He told me,” Kisuke licks his lips, bowing even further for daring to interrupt her. “He told me you know the nature of his illness?”

Silence.

“ _I cannot believe him, how could he-?!”_ Rukia hisses, mostly to herself. The air around them cools down. “Why are you telling me this? What is your aim?”

“My aim?” Kisuke pauses and dares look up into amethyst eyes. “My aim is to _save him,_ Kuchiki-dono.”

Something in her stone-cold features melts, as a glimmer of hopes shines through.

“Is it possible?”

“I will make it possible, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

* * *

He had said that, but Kisuke has no clue how to proceed.

All of his research on the Arrancars was fundamentally different, despite the similar outcomes, simply because his subjects had been the undead hollows. Not regular souls.

The Vizards had always been stronger, faster, more stable…

Stable.

Even if he doesn’t have his Silent Room for himself, his brain is always working on overdrive, and doesn’t waste a second as he remembers an unremarkable conversation from Before.

_“…Not even our Arrancar were stable at the beginning.”_

_Aizen and Kisuke stare at each other._

_“You don’t think they have found…”_

_“Now Kurosaki Ichigo has Hollow powers too. I mean…”_

_Aizen hums under his breath, irritated. “Well. Maybe the Soul King is standing on their side.”_

…Could it really be?

* * *

It’s not even a day later that Kisuke arms himself to the teeth, drops everything again and ends up wading into Vizard territory with no other weapon than his stupid new sense of honor and Benihime, now a familiar weight on his hip.

He’s stopped, he’s attacked, threatened– sharp hollow teeth aiming point-blank ceros at him, sharp claws digging into his flesh.

But he doesn’t stop.

What would they even gain of this?

Kisuke is a dead man walking anyway.

He had one purpose in his life, and there was no power on this realm that would stop him.

From behind the angry Hollow masks, a tent door flaps open and out walks the Vizard’s leader.

Hirako Shinji, former captain of the Fifth, now also a War General in charge of Peace dealing with the Gotei.

And hopefully, Ichigo’s ally.

Kisuke takes a bow.

He falls on his hand and knees and presses his forehead against the ground.

He had been doing a lot of groveling lately, he thinks. He had never been one to grovel.

“Hirako Shinji-sama, my apologies for intruding.” He begins, testing the waters. Testing his temper.

“Rukia told me you might be coming. What do you want?”

Kisuke licks his lips and then lifts his head to stare straight into his eyes. He was still decidedly Shinigami, he noted. He either had not thought Kisuke enough of a threat, or had decided to listen to him.

Kisuke takes a gamble.

“I need you to show me the Soul King’s Gem.”

The reaction is immediate. It is telling.

The ceros dim, the temperature drops. Unease breaks among their ranks even as Hirako arches an eyebrow and asks.

“D’ya seriously had the balls to break into my territory to ask about a children’s fairy tale?”

His voice is dangerous.

Kisuke is merely a step away from death. He can see it in the glow of Hirako’s eyes.

But between his life and Ichigo’s, the answer was easy.

He bowed again. “I have reason to believe it is in your power. And with Ichigo on the verge of dying- ”

A Vizard– one of the ones who had been threatening him since he appeared, pressed a clawed hand against his throat, trapping him with his forehead against the ground.

“ _What did you do to him?”_ He hisses, close to snapping his neck in two.

“My word is my bond. My bond is my life; I did not hurt him.” Kisuke rasps out. He knows they have every reason to not believe in him. But if they could just _listen_ , maybe they could figure out a way. “I am trying… to help Ichigo.”

“Kensei.” Hirako says, his voice so charged with authority, even Kisuke feels inclined to obey. The pressure lets go, his neck is freed but he still doesn’t look up. Still doesn’t move.

He walks up to him, every careful step brimming with controlled power.

This had been Ichigo’s leader in the shadows.

A man not even Yamamoto had been able to control.

“What if I said no?”

Kisuke stiffens. The words come out of his lips before his brain has time to stop them– somehow the legendary Onmitsukidou losing to his emotions for the very first time.

“It was not a request. I will see that stone even if I have to kill every single one of you.”

They kick him. Curse at him. Kisuke is undeterred.

He doesn’t move.

Hirako still hasn’t said a thing in reply.

Silence falls over them.

Silence commandeered by the Strongest Vizard.

“Alright,” he says.

And Kisuke doesn’t see the next blow coming.

* * *

When he wakes up his hands and legs _and chest_ are bound in kidou.

His heart beats against a cage and he knows that if he makes the smallest misstep, whichever kidou genius had bound his heart would kill him with a flick of his fingers.

But he forgets about that, he forgets about everything as Hirako walks inside his prison cell holding the universe in his hands.

It is a tiny thing, all things considered. Glowing an ominous violet, casting Hirako’s face in more exhausted shadows.

The man’s skin was pale. Kisuke suddenly realizes. Almost bone-white. He does not have his Hollow mask out, but Kisuke would sooner die than ignore the Hollow markings on his face, evocative of his mask.

“You’re also dying.” He says. It’s not a question, not really with so many clues at his feet.

Hirako looks at him, speculative. “Yer making me feel as if I made the right choice.”

It sounds a little accusatory, and Kisuke doesn’t know how to reply.

Hirako stands in front of him.

“When the Gotei kicked us out, betrayed, half-dead and beyond repair…” Hirako taps the little ball in his hands. “It is said that the skies parted, and this was given to us.”

 _The Soul King,_ is Kisuke’s knee-jerk reaction. Somehow, looking at that glittering orb it’s less of a superstitious fairy tale, and more of a frightening revelation.

“Some say it was the Soul King, others say it was our own Zanpakuto trying to save us. Regardless, this stopped our deaths. It stopped our souls from losing to the Hollow.”

Kisuke’s mouth waters. How he would love to investigate this. The Soul King did not intervene in mundane matters. But if not Them, then who could have created an object that erased the boundary between Hollow and Shinigami?

Ichigo’s heaving body comes to mind, sobering him faster than a bucketful of ice.

“It didn’t stop your souls, did it?” He asks. “It just slows the corruption.”

“It stops it,” Hirako insists. “But you can still abuse it. You can still keep pushing the boundaries. And the more Hollow you use…”

“The more Hollow you become.”

“Got it in one.” Hirako drawls, with a smile that’s mostly teeth. His eyes glow golden for a second as he scrutinizes the assassin’s face. But the other man is too busy looking at the new puzzle pieces in his hands.

“I thought Ichigo was the youngest.”

“Did it never occur to you that the overpowered orphan had nothing else to lose?”

Kisuke’s heart stops for a second, and it’s not the kidou entrapping it.

“But he made me promise…” The words escape his mouth, but he can’t put the rest of his thoughts to words.

Ichigo was damaged.

He was hurt, and broken.

But he had always looked at the future he was trying to bring.

He had tried too hard to forge a promise between them, so Kisuke would _live_ in the new world he brought.

Had this man thought Kisuke would be able to live in a world that didn’t have him in it?

“He didn’t know how to tell ya,” Hirako says then. And for some reason, his voice is a shade softer. “I began exhibiting effects far after Ichigo began his corruption. We didn’t know. Well… We chose not to know-“

“What does that mean?” Kisuke asks with a choked tone.

“Mashiro…” Hirako stops, as if merely uttering the name was like a stab through the chest. He closes his eyes briefly, inhales and then continues. “ She was the first to fall. She could sustain a full-time hollowification. And she did. She never stopped, until her soul was entirely consumed.”

“What happened to her?”

“What else? Became a Hollow. No reasoning, no intellect. Just sheer violence.”

Something heavy settles inside his stomach. Cold and heavy and terrible. “I know I speak out of turn but, with my research on the Arrancars, there’s a chance-“

“Don’t waste your breath. She’s long gone.”

“…My condolences.”

Hirako actually crooks a little smile. “And you mean it, don’t you?”

* * *

And so they begin.

With a single, sickly subject, a heart a single millimeter away from being sliced in two, and a tiny orb capable of crumbling reality, Kisuke gets down to work.

He doesn’t understand what this is exactly, but he names it Hogyouku after the first time he had held it.

He had felt his soul, Zanpakuto and all, unraveling under its touch. Every fiber of his being lying pliant and open for intrusion like threads on a weaver’s loom.

He doesn’t understand how– doesn’t have the time to try– but he begins to see why the hollowification had been possible.

This Hogyouku opened up the possibility of working with the very essence of a soul.

And with Benihime at his disposal, Kisuke began seeing a path to success.

* * *

His first attempt gets him punted to the other side of the _camp,_ a cero neatly going through his stomach.

He’s pinned to the ground with half a dozen swords and spears until Shinji staggers to his side. Half of his face is melting to a grotesque hollow mask, but the savage grin on his face is decidedly Shinigami.

“ _Again_.” He says, and Kisuke grins back.

He leaves after the third failed attempt, worried that Hirako would die on him if they continued.

The Vizard is tired, exhausted, but still there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

* * *

Kisuke wishes he could have his optimism; he thinks as he brings food down to Ichigo’s cell.

The tray in his hands clatters to the ground, hands thrown out to catch the massive body hurtling at him at an unconceivable speed.

Not quite solid bone snapped inches away from his face, gigantic maw full of teeth and bone a hairsbreadth away from tearing his face in two.  
  
Kisuke barely even notices as he tries pinning clawed arms to the side, trying not to hurt him any further, trying not to _die_.  
  


He’s getting worse.

  
"Ichigo,” he says to the mindless monster in his arms. “Listen to me, I’m almost there, hang in there. Don’t you fucking dare stand me up.”

The Hollow stops squirming and between a breath and the next, hollow bone crumbles away to reveal an exhausted face.

There are hollow markings on his face as well. Rough, bone-like protuberances, stained the color of fresh blood streaked his face, over his eyes.

They don’t have much time left.

“That was quite a hello, dear Ichigo.”

He looks away. Hands balled into fists, his hair still in that frayed braid.

He doesn’t reply.

When Kisuke releases him, he just shies away.

“I’m hungry, Kisuke.” He says, sounding heartbroken. His voice is layered, and so unlike himself. Kisuke pretends not to notice.

“Oh, my apologies, I will go fetch you another-”

Ichigo looks at him with golden eyes. “I am always hungry.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that.

And soon enough, he just _can’t._

* * *

And so the days continue to pass.

Kisuke keeps unmaking Shinji’s soul, trying to find the corruption and severing it.

And gets injury after injury in retaliation, until Yoruichi herself appears before him one day and asks him to stop.

“I can’t.” He says, “I promised.”

“What do I have to do, to make you promise you’ll stay?” She counters, looking seconds away from commanding him of the same. “At least go see a healer.”

“How will I explain my injuries?”

A shadow crosses her expression, and he’s pinned by the golden-eyed gaze of his commanding officer. Somehow he can see the fear, beneath the anger. “Keep testing me, and it’ll be my own hand that puts you in the Fourth.”

“I can’t stop, Yoruichi-dono.” Kisuke mutters, clenching his hands. “I’m nearly there, I’m nearly _there_.”

She closes her eyes.

“You can’t help them if you’re _dead_.”

* * *

The last time Kisuke unwinds Hirako’s soul, he finally understands how to fix it.

He cuts away the tendrils of the soul that have no salvation.

He and Benihime weave together what remains, and then he fills in the holes using his own soul as fabric.

And in the cold laboratory, Hirako’s frozen heart begins to beat.

As it is made back into flesh and muscle, it begins to beat.

Hirako wakes up.

He’s confused, disconcerted, feeling _good_ rather than empty.

Feeling complete, when his soul should be broken.

Hirako Shinji wakes up, and Kisuke fall down.

* * *

When Kisuke wakes up again, it is nearly too late.

When Kisuke wakes up, Yoruichi is looming above him, as if she had been waiting for him. They’re not at the Fourth. He’s not too sure what to think when he realizes that this is probably the Shihouin Compound.

She doesn’t say anything.

She just sits by his side, holding his hands, until he gets up.

She doesn’t stop him, doesn’t try to change his mind.

She just holds him, until he leaves.

* * *

Alone in the room with the beast, Kisuke calls forth Benihime.

Ichigo lunges after him, but Kisuke’s faster as he throws himself to the air, a kidou bind in his hands.

He shoots, misses.

Shoots again and pins Ichigo to the ground in a splash of gore.

Kisuke tries not to wince, knowing that anything weaker would not hold.

He already can see how the hollow is breaking apart the spell.

He pulls the Hogyouku from within the folds of his clothes and unravels his soul.

It is vast.

Far, far bigger than Hirako’s.

The tendrils clog the air, float up to the ceiling, curl around themselves.

Kisuke gulps.

There is so much he has to cut.

So much he has to replace.

Kisuke is not sure he has enough to give, even if he gave everything of him.

“My apologies,” Kisuke says, as he summons Benihime's bankai, as they cut away at the soiled soul in his hands. “I may end up standing you up, after all.”

He cuts and cuts, the never-ending fibers of being. He cuts and mends, he unravels his own soul and begins to thread.

Every frayed end is united; every hole is patched. All of the corrosion is taken away, like blood down the drain. Kisuke’s essence is threaded and assimilated, as the soul is stripped down to its core, becoming Ichigo, instead of Kisuke.

What remains of Kisuke pulls their souls apart again, orders them to return. Benihime sings one last song.

The Hogyouku falls from unresponsive hands and shatters on the ground.

Ichigo’s soul trembles around him, converging into a body in a whirlwind of movement– a tempest of a soul.

Ichigo’s heart begins to beat.

And Urahara Kisuke crumples to the ground.

* * *

Kurosaki Ichigo makes his way to the graveyard. The day is clouded, much like his heart. A fitting weather, really.

He finds Rukia and Byakuya, both dressed for the occasion.

Ichigo smiles at them as he plops down on the ground.

“Hey there, Kuukaku. Kaien. Everyone,” he begins, talking to all the graves, all those lives, all those friends lost. “How have you been?”

Rukia takes a seat by his side. A soft hand on his back.

“Turns out I’m not exactly ready to join you guys yet.” He laughs. The sound is tired, but lively. “Can’t go breaking my promises, now can I?”

“We’re on our way to rebuilding the Kuchiki clan,” Rukia speaks then, addressing her sister, and parents also buried there. “We’re on our way to changing Soul Society for the better, so you can rest at ease.”

“We will honor everything you fought for.” Byakuya adds, still standing stoically above them. His voice is always serene, even when it trembles.

“And I’m sorry,” Ichigo whispers, as he always does. Feeling the insatiable guilt in his gut. “I’m sorry I love him.”

Someone appears at their back, and Ichigo fumbles for a nonexistent Zanpakuto, tries calling forth his long-gone Hollow powers, but there’s nothing there. Before he can think about panicking, he remembers that both Rukia and Byakuya flank him. Neither seem wary, and not until then does he recognize the person standing before him.

Isane just takes it all in stride, as she bows.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” she says. She’s sweating a lot, and there’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “But I think you’d want to know. He’s awake.”

She doesn’t really get to finish her sentence, Ichigo is no longer there.

* * *

Ichigo stares at the bedridden man, thin, sickly _and alive_.

A million things want to jump out of his mouth. Thank you, I’m sorry, don’t leave me.

“You’re an idiot,” he says and Kisuke cracks a smile.

“I just didn’t want to lose my only drinking buddy.”

Ichigo laughs.

It feels heavy, but he welcomes the weight.

It almost manages to mask the void in his soul.

“Good thing neither of us need Zanpakuto to get drunk off our asses, right?”

Kisuke blinks, losing all previous amusement. His eyes lower, his mouth thins and the guilt seeps so thick, Ichigo can almost see it.

“My apologies.”

“What?”

“I thought… I thought I had given you enough to be whole.”

“You did, you fucking asshole.” Ichigo whispers, feeling the words being torn away from his raw throat. He sits down by his side, threading their fingers together. “But you’re not allowed to die yet, even less so at my hands.”

“You wouldn’t have killed me,” he argues. “It would have been my last penance for my sins. It would only had made sense.”

His breath cuts off, and Ichigo almost wants to laugh as his own guilt resurfaces. “I told you your penance. I told you, you are not allowed to die.”

“I know.”

“And anyway.” He continued, lifting his other hand to his own chest. “You gave me part of your soul. I gave you part of mine. Neither of us are allowed to die just yet.”

Kisuke goes pale.

Ichigo sighs. “Kisuke, I did it out of my own free will. I did it because I… Because I can’t stand to go to the bar alone. I can’t stand not seeing you there.”

“Ichigo…” Kisuke begins, hesitates. His shoulders bow again. “Living is so hard.”

“I know.” Ichigo replies, and despite his curt words, his eyes, his hand on his… they are soft. “And that is why you’re not allowed to leave without me.”

“Living for you… it has made everything more bearable.” Kisuke mumbles, staring at the imposing young man in front of him. “When I decided to sacrifice myself for you. It wasn’t just atonement. It was gratitude. For sparing me. For giving me a reason for being. For teaching me how to live.”

“I have not done such a thing.”

“Ichigo, am I worthy of loving you?” Kisuke mumbles softly, feeling their souls intertwining like their fingers. He’s pure, he’s young, he’s kind. Kisuke doesn’t deserve him. But…

“Please,” Ichigo whispers. Kisuke smiles, feeling exhaustion heavy on his eyelids.

Daring to feel peace, for the first time in a century.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but the words pour out of his lips. Somehow breaking past the guilt, the pain. “For as long as my heart beats, as long as I live. I will love you, no matter what.”

“…”

He smiles at him, understanding. “You don’t have to say it. It’s okay.”

Ichigo is just as guilty as he is, after all.

For daring to love him back.

“I love you, Kisuke.” Ichigo whispers, the sin passing his lips like a façade of romance.

Kisuke smiles, his depraved heart warm.

“Let’s go out for a drink, when I get discharged.” He echoes their first promise, their first sin. “We have to celebrate neither of us is dying anymore.”

“Together,” Ichigo grins.

Kisuke’s smile is tentative at best, but full of hope. Immoral as it may be, that lightened his worn-out heart. “Together,” he agrees.

Together, they would walk into hell.

**Author's Note:**

> w e l p
> 
> The ending took a turn, kinda.  
> Man, their circumstances are really tough, aren't they?
> 
> What did you think? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Also there was an extra scene about Ichigo's quincy heritage and another about Ichigo's past that just didn't fit in here. If I ever get around to posting it on tumblr, I'll link them here.
> 
> Happy New Year (?)!


End file.
